“I’m not really sure what love isI know what they say it is in CorinthiansLove is patient, love is kind, etcetera, etceteraI’m just not sure I agree with all that bullshitLove is relative to whomever it stems fromIf the seed is weak how could the love be strong?Maybe we should all just stop looking and let it come find usHow can love not be prideful when that’s all the giver of it knows?Heh, how about I just don’t fuckin know?Maybe we’ll all just keep fucking each other upuntil somebody finally figures it outOr we kill each other trying”

It’s been awhile since I’ve used this keyboard. I can feel the stiffness in my tendons as my fingers find Home Row.

I could never live in a city with one season. I’ve known this for a while, but I’m only coming to realize why now. I admit, Winter really sucks, but having four seasons help me remember that life is moving forward. With, or without me.

My memory and the weather seem to be directly related. I can recall some of my darkest memories. The day George hit me in the head with a questionable “snow” ball that caused my head to swell. How much trouble I got into that day, and how we stopped being friends when my mother knocked on his door, visible steam radiating from her head. The day we lost to Burlington in the Tyke Football Championship Game. How my stubby legs sunk knee-deep into the snow.

The day The Monster was arrested. The thickness and humidity in the air. My infant brother still defecating himself in his pampers. It was so unbelievably hot that night, we all took to sleeping on the floor in the living room; with the exception of The Monster of course. The living room was the only location in the house with AC. I remember how my cousins and I hid under the sheets, pretending to be asleep as loud bangs on the front door echoed through the house. As the sweat ran dripped off my nose, I could see the reflection of the siren lights in the living room window.

That was approximately sixteen years ago…

Today is July 08 2016. I’m reading about the Race Wars in America, and how idiotic they must look to the rest of the world. I imagine two monkeys in a cage throwing their feces at each other. It brings me such sorrow. I remember the Trayvon Martin case. Following the news religiously, posting on social medias, signing petitions on Change.org – you name it. But the point of this post isn’t to talk about injustices.

The point of this post is, that as I type this up, I’m looking out the office windows at five children playing in water I’d frankly never stick my toe in. There are four boys and one girl. Two of the boys have a pallet resembling Casper. The other two boys are dark skinned, rich with thick curled hair that must be impossible to stick a comb through. The girl streaking through the water, has the complexion of the bottom of the Ice-cap from Tim Hortons that you never finish because all the taste is gone. They are all laughing, playing and hugging. The point is that ill never forget this day, this sight, or the beautiful 28 degree weather. It’s the day I remembered among all this fighting, we used to be connected…

The game of Chess is beautiful.
Undoubtedly, so are you.
Just like Chess,
My appreciation for your design is rudimentary.
Maybe I don’t understand you yet,
Perhaps I need more time.
A determined individual I am;
The stars will align.
If I could move like the Knight,
Be brave and bold.
Say everything just right,
Raining fear from above –
Unorthodox traversing,
Putting the L in love

How about straight-forward like the Rook?
But the Rook is in, then he’s out.
No time to remember all the pieces he took.
Is this the honest hour? Oh, well
Im inclined to tell,
I want this moment to last.
Taking precaution on my next move,
Refusing to let it pass too fast.
And I just want a sample,
I just want a piece,
Slide across the city like the Bishop
Just to be discreet.
Or I could take it slow,
Like the Pawn:
One step at a time,
Weakest of my advances,
But one thing on his mind.

You see there’s nothing like that first time
When our eyes met.
Heavy breathing, steamy Windows,
A painted picture, I won’t soon forget.
Speaking of heavy breathing,
I can’t seem to control mine.
If I don’t get my King out of here,
It’ll be game over in no time,
But my Rook is shook
My Bishop is trapped –(Maybe I should get on top of that…)
Just need a way across the pond
To get next to you Queen,
We only ever play at midnight
So I turn on the high beams,
To witness everything that I’ve been dreaming for,
I see my victory,
And so much more.
Its dark outside, but clear to see
I want you to remember me.

Posted in the corner like a student in detention,
Is my last shivering Pawn.
And my King won’t stand at attention,
As you go in for the kill
I wonder if I’ll get this chance again…
She puts her hand around my neck,
I release the tension in my fists.
She places a smile on her face,
And a kiss on my lips.
She says “it’s getting late”
As her Queen slides to E4,
“Checkmate.”

There will be more games,
More chances to win.
We reset the pieces,
And the match begins.

I was wondering when this day would come
Lying to myself, pretending
I didn’t know where it was coming from
Maybe I saw the signs
Instead I refused to believe
The alteration in your demeanor
Could disrupt anything we’ve achieved

We’ve come so far already
What’s the point of reverting?
How can you live with yourself?
When the one who loves you is hurting?

I’ll never forget the first day we met
You were with her, and I with him
But oh how quickly we’d soon forget
I mean, I look in the mirror disgustingly
So I watch my reflection in your eyes so reluctantly…

I see it,
I see it in all these young couples
They walk the mall, hand-in-hand
With hopes of something deeper than a one-night-stand
As I clap, as I applaud
I know how this movie ends
No one in this love life, is ever your forever
You sign up for full-time
But you’re a part-time worker
The hours are suck
You’re underpaid
They couldn’t care less about your story
Your schedule is inconsistent
You’re at the bottom of seniority

So wake me up when there’s a full time position
Heartbreak on my mental
I won’t settle for your rental
But since love is in the air
I know just what to do

By now I’m sure the Good Life’s, World gym’s, and other muscle building hangouts have made their quota for the year with the surplus of hopefuls rushing to sign up or renew memberships for 2016. Although my new year has been nothing short of painfully dreadful (but to be fair 2015 ended on a decline) I’d like to offer some words to the wise before you all step on that scale today with optimistic hopes.

Just recently, an old workout partner of mine were conversing. I hadn’t seen him in awhile and we were catching up.

I’m about 150 pounds soaking wet, and although I can’t pinpoint my exact height, I still need the tips of my toes to reach some items in your average kitchen.

It’s safe to say whatever athletic ability I maintain is surely through the power of youth and natural athleticism. Sure, I’d love to walk around the 4 percent body fat, but that’s just not happening,and I’m completely OK with that.

During my casual chat with Old Workout friend, he pinched my arm to see how much bigger I’ve gotten since he’s last seen me, to be frank he was unimpressed. In the midst of trying to explain that we went in together, and without him providing the other half of the funds he shouldn’t be surprised at the lack of my “gains”. He proceeded to pompously lift his sleeve to expose his biceps. “let me show you what I’ve been working on” he says, paying more attention to the veins on his arm than the reasoning as to why I didn’t look the way he was expecting. I won’t even begin to list all the signs of narcissism I witnessed in the span of one conversation.

I remember staring at the ceiling that night, wondering if he ever cared how my progress was going, and simply took it as an opportunity to display his own achievements. I’m in no way a lifter, and will most likely never be one, so there isn’t anything to be jealous about, I was confused more than anything as I came to the realization the conversation had lost its genuine sense of interest- if it ever had one, between engaging parties. If this had happened to me before in a different way, I’ve never noticed before now.

This is yet another year for you to gauge your progress. If that includes the way you look, don’t let anyone adjust the lense you see yourself through. If they do, you become your worst enemy;and when that happens, nothing will ever be good enough.

Do you force yourself to create an entire blog post on the basis of nothing? Do you ramble until you hit your word quota? Well unfortunately for your sorry lack of skill, you’ve already done blogs on both those of those topics so better look elsewhere!

I remember studying for geography tests when I was younger. I’d life my oversized grade five text book right to my face, reading the names of the Province’s, Capitals, and territories over and over again. When I felt I had studied them sufficiently enough, I’d close my textbook, wipe my the cover, close my eyes and begin to recite what I had learned. If I made and mistakes I’d swing the textbook upwards, slapping it in the square of my forehead. I’d repeat this process till I had everything memorized.

In my twenty three years, I’m wondering my bizarre system learning has changed at all.

For awhile, I’ve been operating under the impression that I was inviting you into a vast perspective of how i see the world. However, multiple times this year i’ve been shown just how small that perspective is. If I truly believe in something, I will fight my point til my dying breath, but in order to grow I cannot refuse the concerns of other beliefs around me.

My cousin laughed and said “you’d make a good Christian boy” Sarcasitc laughter without Christmas joyMy friends tell me i should take up fashionMy girl thinks i should take up actingFirst it was the neneNow its watch me whipMight as well drop outWith all the class you skipYou sing “way up i feel blessed”When deep down your streesedThey want me to vote on this upcoming electionBut im still focused on my own self-reflectingThey defile your nameStrip you of your clothesWhile rappers all sing “we dont love them hoes”They put a ball in your handAnd tell you where to shootYou bring glory to their schoolThey tell you you’re a starKnowing four years laterYou wont get very farBut its good while it lastsIts all just a gameAnd the just made a million off your name.I’m still that kid smacking textbooks off my forehead till I get it.I know, one day i’ll come to peace with it.One day ill learn to deal with it.I’ve been competitiveWay before my teensBut we’ve been dividedLong before we started picking teams,You ever wonder what it all really means?